


what's your favorite scary movie?

by diaboIica



Category: Scream (Movies), ジョジョの奇妙な冒険 | JoJo no Kimyou na Bouken | JoJo's Bizarre Adventure
Genre: F/M, enjoy ig this is my first time here, feel free to self insert if you feel like it, heather is a oc!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:53:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25899244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/diaboIica/pseuds/diaboIica
Summary: set on 1996, heather receives a mysterious call on halloween night. was her boyfriend, jotaro kujo, trying to prank her again?
Relationships: Kujo Jotaro/Original Character(s), Kujo Jotaro/Original Female Character(s), Kujo Jotaro/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	what's your favorite scary movie?

**Author's Note:**

> this story is heavily inspired in scream's initial scenario, it has one of my original characters heather mason, who is paired up with jotaro kujo in this story, but if you want to self-insert, i don't see any problems with it! 
> 
> i didn't fully reviewed it so some errors should be spotted during the story, so maybe later i'll fix it, enjoy! 
> 
> if you want to follow me on twitter, feel free to do so: @jotwro.

Heather doesn’t really care much for Halloween, it is fun watching some slasher movies sometimes, but she wouldn’t waste her time decorating her house with bowls full of candy or carved pumpkins. She’s sitting at her home alone because Kujo told her he had to work in a nearby movie rental store. Which was fine, but it was not preferable. Heather got up from the couch in the big living room to make some popcorn to accompany that shitty horror video on tv, since Jotaro liked and watched them all the time. She didn’t like them that much, but something about seeing young dumb teenagers dying over idiotic things was funny to her.

But then the house phone rings, hoping it’s her boyfriend saying that he’s coming home early tonight. A hand reaches for the phone, bringing the receiver up to her face.

“Hello?” She answers, searching for the popcorn in one of the cabins at the kitchen.

“Hello.” It’s a voice that she wasn’t familiar with. It sounded deep, but it wasn’t Kujo’s deep voice. Heather pauses, waiting for another response from the other side of the line, but she received silence. She leans against the kitchen counter, still waiting. “Yes?”

“Who is this?” Really? You called me.

“Who are you trying to reach?” She asks instead.

“What number is this?” Ok, now it sounded like a joke to her, who would call without knowing who you’re trying to reach?

“What number are you trying to reach?” Heather is ready to hang up, not wanting to waste her time with whoever was speaking to her. “I don’t know.” She sighs, eyes rolling upwards.

“So, I think you have the wrong number.”

“Do I?” He sounded cheeky.

“It happens, take it easy.” Click! She hangs up the phone finally, heading back to the living room to take away the empty cans of soda from the small table close to the tv, wanting to get some more. The phone began to ring again, wondering if it was really her boyfriend or the same guy from before.

“Helloo?” She asks, and again, it’s the same man. She sighed already.

“I’m sorry. I dialed the wrong number.” Oh, really?

“So why did you dial it again?” She wondered why she didn’t ignore it completely this time, maybe she was to alone and bored to engage with something else.

“To apologize.”

“You’re forgiven. Bye now.” Heather went to hang up one more time but that deep voice stops her.

“Wait, wait! Don’t hang up.” The brunette stands in front of the sliding glass door in the living room. It’s pitch black outside.

“What?” It better be something that won’t waste her time completely. “I want to talk to you for a second.”

“They’ve got 900 numbers for that. Seeya.” Click. She hanged up once again with a slight grin in her face, hoping that he won’t bother her this night anymore. Was he some kind of secret admirer of hers? Cute, huh? When she finally manages to get the popcorn, she hears the phone ringing again. Now the popcorn sizzles in a pot on the stove, Heather covers it with a lid, reaching for the portable phone.

“Hello.” Heather sighed, thinking in what the man will say this time.

“Why don’t you want to talk to me?” It almost sounded like her boyfriend when he was whining to the girl for attention.

“Who is this?” Maybe it was Kujo trying to play a joke on her. It wouldn’t be the first time this month, since he successfully done it with one of his friends.

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine.”

“I don’t think so.” She grinned again, shaking the popcorn.

“What’s that noise?” He asks, Heather smiles, playing along, innocently.

“Popcorn.”

“You’re making popcorn?” She hums in reply. “I only eat popcorn at the movies.” The man says, how odd.

“Well, I’m getting ready to watch a video.” She actually watched a few minutes of it, but he didn’t need to know about it.

“Really? What?”

“Oh, just some scary movie.”

“Do you like scary movies?” Heather holds a chuckle in her throat. She definitely doesn’t, but she won’t go further in details. “Maybe, maybe not.”

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” He’s flirting with her, how cute. Heather moves away from the stove and takes a seat at the kitchen counter, directly in front of the sliding glass door.

“Oh, I don’t know.”

“You have to have a favorite.” Oh she doesn’t have any. But she thought about all the movies that the Jotaro made her watch alongside him, deciding which one she was going to pick. “What comes to mind?”

“Uh… “Halloween”. You know, the one with the guy with the white mask who walks around and stalks the babysitters.” She says while playing with a long, sharp knife from the counter.

“Yeah.”

“What’s yours?” Heather was genuinely curious.

“Guess.” She really doesn’t want to play guess, but she does anyway.

“Uh… “Nightmare on Elm Street”?” Heather remembers Kujo wearing that horrible mask and glove last Halloween, and scaring her with it.

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?”

“Yeah, Freddy Krueger.”

“Freddy, that’s right. I liked that movie. It was scary.” Was it really his favorite scary movie?

“Well, the first one was, but the rest sucked.” She shares this opinion since Kujo feels the same about the movies, since she didn’t really want to watch it. Judging by the way the man is speaking to her, she thinks that’s him on the phone. Not a lot of people had her phone number.

“So, you got a boyfriend?” This was too far to not be Kujo. Heather still chuckled. “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” She knows how to tease him.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Mm… No.” Heather lies, and there’s a pause. She probably wounded her actual boyfriend, it was definitely him.

“You never told me your name.” You know my name. She smiles again, twirling her hair.

“Why do you want to know my name?’

“Because I want to know who I’m looking at.” What? She thought. It was pretty freaky. Heather spins around like lightning facing the glass door. But she can’t see anything, it’s still pretty dark outside.

“What did you say?” She asks, not knowing if she should fear the situation or stay calm because it was Kujo on the phone.

“I want to know who I’m talking to.”

“That’s not what you said.” She stands up, slowly walking towards the glass door, wondering if he was hiding somewhere there.

“What do you think I said?” Heather clicks on the outside light. A flood light illuminates the backyard. Her eyes survey the grounds, but it’s empty. No one’s there. She turns the light off, while in the kitchen, on the stove, the popcorn pops due to the heat.

“What? Hello?”

“Look, I have to go now.” She was going to hang up once more, but the man’s deep voice stops her.

“Wait! I thought we were gonna go out.” He sounded cutely sad.

“No, I don’t think so…” Jotaro was going too far with his little game.

“Don’t hang up on me.”

“Gotta go.”

“Don’t-” She hangs up. She doesn’t know if she should lock the doors, or leave the main door unlocked to Kujo once he was over that shit game of his. Once she got close to the glass door to lock it properly and moved close to the stove, the phone rings one more time.

“Yes?”

“I told you not to hang up on me.”

“What do you want?” She starts to slowly tear up, fearing something bad would happen to her. Jotaro needs to stop joking around with this type of bullshit. Right. Now.

“To talk.” He said softly, he knows that he can just show up and stop doing this.

“Then dial someone else, okay?” She hangs up one more time, but now she’s not hoping that he would stop tormenting her at this point. She had enough, tearing more as she goes to the stove. Then, the ringing started, she grabbed the phone.

“Listen, asshole-” Heather raises her tone but she was quickly interrupted by the man on the other line.

“ **No, you listen, you little bitch. If you hang up on me again, I’ll gut you like a fish, understand?** ” He spoke harshly, she doesn’t know how to react. Total silence. He has gotten her full attention.

“Huh, yeah, just as I thought.”

“Is this some kind of joke?” She asks with her tone now low.

“More of a game, really. Can you handle that, brunette?” Wasn’t all of this enough? Why is this not over? She thinks, scared to death.

Heather eyes the glass doors, then looks up the hallway to the front doors, moving to it. It’s unlocked. She bolts it. After locking the doors, she quietly looks over the door’s window to check if there was anybody watching her.

“Can you see me?” He speaks softly.

“Listen, I’m two seconds from calling the police.” She says breathing harder as time goes on, crying a little bit more.

“They’d never make it in time. We’re out in the middle of nowhere.” He is right, she lived in a house not too close from downtown. She moves her face flush against the door’s window again, her eyes looking through a slightly distorted view of the front porch. It is indeed empty. She relaxes a bit, but not totally relieved.

“What do you want?”

“ **To see what your insides look like.** ” He speaks like he was the pure evil, making Heather cry loudly and making her jaw drop as total fear storms her face. She hangs up the phone, throwing it down on a side table when the doorbell chimes two times in a row. Heather leaps out of her skin. She turns to the door as it chimes again.

“Who’s there?” Calling out. Another chime rings through her head. She moves to it.

“Who’s there? I’m calling the police!” She says again, but louder, more terrified than ever.

No answer. Fuck this. It’s time for the police. She goes for the portable phone. Just as she picks it up, it rings. Heather almost drops it, losing her breath. She brings it to her ear with trembling hands, saying nothing, listening, waiting. A long silence, and then.

“You should never say “Who’s there?”. Don’t you watch scary movies? It’s a death wish. You might as well just come out here to investigate a strange noise or somethin’.” Something about his voice could tell Heather that he was enjoying himself seeing her suffer and hear her crying over the phone. Heather clutches the wall, nearly collapsing.

“Look, enough is enough. You’ve had your fun now so I think you better just leave or else.” Heather slowly begins to walk backwards back to kitchen, getting closer to the stove, sobbing more and more.

“Or else what?”

“Or else my boyfriend will be here any second, and he’ll be pissed when he finds out.” As she speaks, she can feel her warm tears flooding like crazy in her pink cheeks.

“I thought you didn’t have a boyfriend.” Busted. She holds steady.

“I lied!” She shouts. “I do have a boyfriend, and he’ll be here any second so your ass better be gone.” Now she’s totally a crying mess, she couldn’t take this joke too far anymore, she wishes that everything about this is over already.

“Sure…”

“I swear.” She pauses for a second. “He’s big, and he plays football and he’ll kick the shit out of you!” Heather does her best to shout so that he could understand her message loud and clear.

“Ooh... I’m getting scared.” He says as he mocks about the information of her boyfriend. “I’m shaking in my boots.”

“I’m telling you the truth. I lied before…”

“Oh, but I believe in you.” She hears the man chuckling softly. “So you better just leave…” She sobs again.

“His name wouldn’t be Jotaro Kujo, would it?” Silence. Heather stops for a minute before she replies. “How do you know his name?”

“Go to the back door and turn on the patio lights, again.” Heather, terrified, forces herself to move, staggering to the kitchen, to the glass doors. Her shaky hand finds the light switch, she hits it. The back yard is lit.

Sitting in a lawn chair in the middle of the back yard is a big, linebacker of a guy, her boyfriend himself, Kujo, tied and gagged. He’s been roughed up, but he’s alive. His eyes, wide in fear, staring at his girlfriend, pleading with her.

“Oh God!” Heather screams as her hand moves to the lock on the door.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He says harshly again. Terror rides Heather’s face, she’s petrified.

“Where are you?” Says the girl sobbing uncontrollably in the phone.

“Guess.” Her eyes search the yard, combing bushes, trees. He could be anywhere.

“Please, don’t hurt him.” She begs while stares at his horrified eyes.

“That all depends on you.”

“Why are you doing this?” More tears find their way, streaming down Heather’s face.

“I wanna play a game” The man says quite excited with messing with her fragile mind.

“No.”

“Then he dies right now!”

“NO! No, please”

“Which is it?” A long silence. Heather touches the glass, staring at Kujo, this big jock of a guy is crying too. He repeated himself again.

“Wha… What kind of game?”

“Turn off the light.” Her hand goes to the switch, Kujo tugs and pulls at his straps, as if begging her, his face in sweat, blood and tears. “Heather, no! No, please, Heather!” He tried his best trying to speak to you even wearing tapes all over his mouth. Click. He disappears in the darkness. Heather moves away from the glass, back toward the living room, unbelieving, horrified.

“Here’s how we play. I ask a question. If you get it right, Jotaro lives.” Three curtain less windows line one wall. Heather crouches down behind the tv, tipping a lamp cord from its socket, darkening the room. Her body quivers.

“Please don’t do this.”

“Come on. It’ll be fun.” He says quite happy in forcing you into his little game.

“Please…”

“It’s an easy category. Movie trivia.”

“No… I’ve had enough already…” She still begs, trying to get away with it.

“I’ll even give you a warm-up question.”

“Don’t do this. I can’t…” Heather doesn’t know if she’s gonna get everything right, she doesn’t even care about scary movies, what if she fails and get Jotaro killed?

“Name the killer in “Halloween”.”

“No…”

“Come on. It’s your favorite scary movie, remember? He had a white mask, he stalked the babysitters.” Heather goes silent, a nervous wreck, she can barely speak much less think.

“I don’t know…”

“Come on, yes you do.” It was like he was cheering for her for a second.

“Please… stop.” Heather is sobbing more now than ever in her whole life.

“What’s his name?”

“I don’t know, I can’t think.” Heather has officially reached hysteria, petrified beyond all reality.

“Kujo’s counting on you.” Suddenly, through tears, Godsends…

“Michael, Michael Myers.”

“Yes! Very good!” Heather sighs, relieved.

“Now for the real question.”

“No! Please no more…” She screamed again, wanting him to stop this.

“But you’re doing so well. We can’t stop now.”

“Please go away! Leave us alone!”

“Then answer the question. Same category.” She can’t do this no more. Heather is now a blubbering, wet mess on the floor.

“Oh, please stop.”

“Name the killer in “Friday the 13th”.” A mad smile purses Heather’s lips. She knows this. She leaps up, through tears, screaming. “Jason! Jason, Jason!” A slight pause.

“I’m sorry. That’s the wrong answer.”

“No, it’s not! No it’s not. It was Jason.”

“Afraid not. No way.”

“Listen, it was Jason! I saw that goddamned movie twenty times. It was Jason!” She wasn’t lying, Kujo liked that movie but she couldn’t pay too much attention to what was happening all the time but she is sure about the killer’s name.

“Then you should know Jason’s mother, Mrs. Voorhees, was the original killer. Jason didn’t show up until the sequel. I’m afraid that was a wrong answer.” Heather is stupefied. “You tricked me…”

“Lucky for you there’s a bonus round. But poor Jotaro, I’m afraid he’s out!” This implication sends Heather running her hands to flip the patio light switch to see Kujo’s eyes wide, sitting in the lawn chair, his belly gaping open, a mass of blood and ripped flesh, his insides lay on the ground between his feet, steam rising.

A scream erupts from the bottom of her soul as Heather collapse on the floor, nearly passing out, crouching back close to the tv again. Her face, pale and ghostly white. She sobs one more time as the man on the other side of the line laughs at the horrific situation. “Hey, we’re not finished yet. Final question, are you ready?”

She doesn’t answer immediately. A long, maddening silence. Heather reaches up and clicks off the light, making her boyfriend go away, wishing, hoping. “Please, leave me alone.”

“Answer the question, and I will.” Heather is curled up on the floor like an infant, rocking slowly back and forth. “What door am I at?”

“What?”

“There are two main doors to your house. The front door, the patio doors. If you answer correctly, you live. Very simple.” From where Heather sits, she can see both front and back doors. She deliberates, with her last bit of strength she tries to strategize. Eyeing both, the front, the back door trying to decide between the two.

“Don’t make me… I can’t, I won’t.”

“Your call.”

Suddenly, the patio glass door shatters to bits as a lawn chair come flying through it. Exploding glass sprays everywhere. This incites Heather like fire. She springs to her feet, bolting to the kitchen only to lean in the counter to grab a long, sharp knife. She sees a shadow moving quickly through the shattered doorframe. Somewhere in the house, back flat against a window, listening to somebody stepping on the shattered glass. She turns and unlocks another glass door, quietly sliding up, leading to the back corner of the house. Heather eases along a narrow path between a tall fence and the side of the house, going for the front yard. She must pass the three curtain less windows, the now shattered patio glass door, and unfortunately, her dead boyfriend. She gets to the first one and peeks in, the shadow from before has pulled open the foyer closet, searching for her.

Heather creeps along, to the next window, she looks in, the figure is completely on the other side of the room, moving toward the hall that leads to other parts of the house. She moves further along the house, squeezing by hedges, to the third window, she peeks in to the shadow staring back at her.

His face covered with a ghostly white mask, inches from her, his eyes piercing through, soulless, Heather scream as his hand crashes through the glass window grabbing her left wrist, she shakes herself trying to free herself, her right fist going straight to his nose, finally breaking free as the shadow disappear inside the house.

Heather sails around the corner of the house, trying to reach the front door. Her eyes cover the sprawling country yard when suddenly headlights appear in the distance, coming down the road towards the house, she recognizes them instantly. Mom… Dad... She tears off across the yard toward them, moving like lightning.

As the car turns into the driveway, the ghost masked man appears, jumping out of the window straight to Heather’s thin body, she stumbles back, quickly catching her balance, starting to run again. The figure runs faster, grabs her mouth, arm poised high, a flash of a silver blade and Heather is struck across the chest. She falls and looks down to see her shirt blossoming red, a look of bewilderment as she cries softly.

The knife rises again, Heather throws her hand forward, the blade comes down but it’s knocked off by the portable phone still in her hand, but unfortunately, she can’t defend herself for too long as Ghostface wraps his hand around her neck. She managed to kick him between his legs to break free from his tight grasp.

A middle-aged couple emerge from the parked car. They move to the front door completely unaware of what’s happening to their daughter, only feet from them.

Heather stumbles forward, her parents close to her, she opens her mouth to scream but no sound resonates, she is beyond words, staggering, swaying as Ghostface moves behind her.

“Did you water over here today, hun?” The woman says as she lightly puts her hand over the flowers. “It was just that water from the rain.”

“They look great, don’t they?”

“Don’t they smell strong?” Referring to the flower’s strong essence. “I told you that you could sent it back.” The father says as he discovers the front door ajar. A puzzled look.

Heather collapses on the ground, clutching her bloody chest and him upon her.

The father sees straight back into the kitchen, the shattered patio door. “Jesus…”

“What is it? Where’s Heather?”

“Heather? Heather?” Her father tries calling out. In a split second they’re both panic stricken. The father begins searching the house frantically. The mother is hysterical.

Heather is trying hard to slip on the porch to get to the front door, where her parents just passed through, but she’s interrupted by the man who just destroyed her entire life. He rolls her over, letting her lay on her back as she pants hard, losing her breath slowly and her eyes closing. Her hands reach the man’s mask to take it off and finally see who was haunting her during the whole night.

Why him? Were there any motives for him to cold blood murder them both? She couldn’t speak, or show any reactions. He finally puts her out of her misery when the man stabs her one last time, driving her really slow to a certain death, leaving her to pant lowly, but still hearable.

Back at the house, her parents are still searching her, the house was huge, they couldn’t find her that quick. “Call the police.” The father says running up the stairs as her mother runs to the phone in the foyer, she picks it up. There is no dial tone, she jiggles the base.

The older man doesn’t find his beloved daughter anywhere, how could she disappears like that? “Heather? Where are you honey? Call the police already, goddamn it.”

“The phone’s dead.” The softest, faintest voice is heard.”

“...help me…” Heather tried to gasp once again, but failing.

“She’s here, God, I can hear her. Where’s my baby?” The husband returns to the foyer finding his wife clinging to the phone. “Where is she?”

“I can hear her. Oh Mother of God, I can hear her.” The father upturns the living room. “Heather! Heather!”

“Not my daughter… not her.” The husband grabs hold of his wife. “Get in the car and drive down to the Mackenzie’s.” The other throws the front door open and rushes out, the father moves through the house when a scream echoes out. That being his wife’s. He tears off for the front door.

The older man rushes out the door to find his wife, on her knees, bent over, retching. His eyes move beyond to a tree in the front yard, his stomach fails him, his dinner rises, as he bares witness to the single, most horrifying sight he’ll ever see.

That of his only daughter as she hangs from a big oak tree, strung up, very much dead and her stomach ripped over.

The red haired man walks surreptitious through the bushes of the now dead young lady, leaving the scenario still holding the bloody silver blade, with a blank expression. He did it, now no one gets to see Heather smile again, or even to hear her say “I love you.”


End file.
